


Young Dumb Broke High School Kids

by whorror_jpeg



Series: Headcanons [5]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Breakups, Crying, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, PTSD, Steve Harrington - Freeform, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 16:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15123095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorror_jpeg/pseuds/whorror_jpeg
Summary: Steve, the readers best friend, is heartbroken after Nancy. The reader helps him out every step of the way.





	Young Dumb Broke High School Kids

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
> 
> Prompts: nonnnneeeee
> 
> Song: Young Dumb Broke- Kahlid
> 
> Request: nope :)
> 
> Requests Are: Open
> 
> Warning(s): cursing, breakups, steve cRYING, depression, PTSD, angst, fluff.
> 
> Word count: 1.1k
> 
> Authors note: I genuinely love Steve and his development, but I don’t think the duffer brothers carefully inspired how he’d react to Nancy breaking up with him. Also, this is one of my crappier ones-- sorry.

You were sitting in bed, reading a book for your literature class when you heard knocking on your window. You opened your curtains to reveal none other than Steve Harrington. Instead of the nice smile you’d come to adore on the boy, his face was shrouded in sadness and near panic, his eyes red and glistened over.

You opened the window quickly, letting him in, he jumped in. You waited for him to call himself a ninja, but there wasn’t a joke to be made. Not tonight, anyway.

“Hey, (Y/L/N).” he greeted sadly.

“I thought you went to a party with your girlfriend?”

“Well here I am, at your house, girlfriendless.” he tried joking, doing his famous sad jazz hands. He let his hands drop, inhaled, and let a few tears fall.

“Hey, hey, hey! What happened?” you asked, coming to hold his face in your hands.

“She doesn’t love me, (Y/N). We’re bullshit, apparently.” he chuckles, despite the situation.

“Oh Steve.” you wiped his eyes,”Let’s go downstairs, watch a movie, eat fat stuff, yeah?”

He nodded, wiping his nose as you took his other hand and guided him through the empty house. Growing up with Steve, you had at least one major thing in common, and that was frequently absent parents. And it’s not like Steve had to climb through your window, your parents adored your best friend, the first time he did it when he was 14 to scare you- knowing you were watching a scary movie, it became a tradition.

He sat on your couch while you made popcorn and brought out some ice cream to defrost. When the popcorn was ready, you grabbed the bag, two spoons, and the tub of ice cream, before coming back into the living room. Steve hadn’t moved, instead, he had his head in his hands, sobs quietly racking his body. You put the food on the coffee table and gave him the tissue box that held residence on the side table. He took it and blew his nose while you put in The Outsiders, a movie you and Steve adored, as well as the book. When you sat back down, you put a pillow in your lap and guided the still sobbing boy to lay in your lap. You’d never seen him like this. You always saw  _Steve Harrington: The Basketball Star_ , or  _Steve_   _Harrington: King of Hawkins High_ , never  _Steve_   _Harrington: The Broken-Hearted Boy_. The last time you saw him cry was when he was 14 and his parents had started leaving him home alone. He felt like his parents didn’t love him, but you assured him they  _did_ , they just had jobs.

About an hour in, you noticed he’d fallen asleep while you played with his hair (which he never let you do, he had just been so emotionally drained and couldn’t deny that it calmed him down). You tried not to laugh as you saw a spoon in his hand, his other arm cuddling the now melted and nearly empty tub of ice cream. You decided to clean up the mess you’d made and turned off the movie. You had left him with his head on the pillow and replaced the ice cream tub with another pillow, before taking off his shoes and covering him up. You ended up in bed later after kissing Steve’s forehead and turning the lights off.

From there, it was a nightly occurrence for nearly a month, but you noticed he’d gotten worse with his sleep. At times you’d wake up with him still awake, gaining no sleep. Other times, you’d wake up from him screaming, having to run downstairs and tell him everything was okay. You didn’t know where his PTSD was coming from, but he needed help, soon.

You had confronted Nancy about their relationship, tired of seeing  _your_  best friend crying every night or drinking himself to sleep. Sometimes you had to  _force_  Steve to take a shower, or to eat  _something_   _other_  than those stupid peanut butter crackers he loved.

“What the  _fuck_ , Nancy?” you grabbed her shoulder while she was talking to Jonathan, seemingly her new boyfriend.

It was like she knew what you were talking about, “Can we not do this here?”

Jonathan gripped his bag tightly, swaying nervously.

“No.  _What the fuck, Nancy_? He was in love with you, he  _is_  in love with you. Do you understand he’s been at my house every goddamn night  _sobbing_?”

“Really?”

It dawned on you that Nancy was still the nice girl, she truly hadn’t known what was going on with her ex-boyfriend.

You sighed, “Nancy,  _you broke his heart_. If you didn’t love him, why’d you lead him on? Let alone break up with him intoxicated?”

“I didn’t mean to, okay? It just happened, and I planned on it for a while.“

You shook your head, “I really  _can’t_  believe you right now.”

“I would’ve broken up with him sooner, okay? I just stopped feeling what I thought I was feeling.”

You looked up, angry, “ _What you thought you were feeling?_  I-”

You stopped when you saw the tall boy, staring hopelessly at the girl he loved. He’d heard everything.

This led to him asking you to skip school with him, and you accepted, so long as you could drive because Steve was crying too damn much to see the road.

You had worked with him, making sure he was getting better every single day, not letting him talk to Nancy, making sure he took a different route to his classes to avoid her. It got to the point where he could look at her, and it’d be okay. Yes, he’d be a little upset, but he was glad she was doing okay. They even started to talk again. You were proud of him, and on a warmer sunnier day, you took a drive, going on spring vacation together to camp at a lake a little ways away, the windows rolled down, sunglasses on, your feet out of the window, blasting Journey, and laughing. It was the spring before the two of you graduated.

You’d talked about your future; you wanted to study in college, and he wanted to stay in Hawkins and help out in the police force. You promised you’d visit all the time.

He was holding your hand while driving, stupidly singing and dancing to the music, before pulling over, stopping the car, turning down the music, and looking at you. You put your feet in the car and looked at him while he took off his sunglasses. Without saying anything, he reached over, cupped your jaw and kissed you.

“I had to get that out of the way, sorry.” he laughed. You stared at him, smiling.

“I hate you, Harrington, and the things you make me feel.” you laughed, intertwining your fingers with his as he put the car in gear and drove off again singing along stupidly to Owner Of A Lonely Heart.


End file.
